


You are Mine

by Cleawrites



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Secret Marriage, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:14:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23723698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cleawrites/pseuds/Cleawrites
Summary: What if the Brotherhood made better time in getting Arya to Riverrun, causing a chain reaction that lead to Catelyn surviving the wedding. Arya and Catelyn then must keep each other safe, developing and understanding of one another that they’d never had before as they struggle for safety and survival. Catelyn shows Arya the strength that lies behind courtly manners while Arya shows Catelyn how to survive when all civilization is gone.Meanwhile Gendry fights to make it back to the woman from whom he'd been taken.
Relationships: Arya Stark & Catelyn Tully Stark, Arya Stark/Gendry Waters
Comments: 8
Kudos: 119





	1. Chapter 1

Gendry ran his fingers over the rough edges of the split metal. The armor showed scars from battles won and battles lost. Lord Beric had been killed in this armor, many times over, yet still he walked upright and still the armor held. There were enough miracles at Hollow Hill and Gendry knew better than to even imagine one possible for him.   
And a miracle is what it would be to keep her. He could never be anything to her but a distant memory from her wild days in the forest. How could she not understand that?   
Maybe she still retained some kind of hope, despite the seven hells that the last few years had put her through. He hoped; she deserved miracles.   
He warmed at the thought of her faith that her life would ultimately end up how she thought it should. There was beauty in the hope that flickered in her as she spoke of her brothers and of one day being together again at Winterfell.   
Life would give him nothing and only heartbreak stood in the path of wishing. One day she would understand, the unwanted don’t get miracles.  
Still a stitch formed in his chest, a sinking in his stomach and the words “She wanted you” echoed in his head.   
She had offered to be his family, no one had ever cared to offer him half so much.   
And he’d sent her away.   
Gods, he really was the stupid bull she’d always accused him of being. Even if they would always part, he couldn’t leave it like that, he couldn’t leave her hurt.   
With a clatter Lord Beric’s armor fell to the cave floor, as Gendry rushed out of the stale air into the forest chill.   
“What’d you do to the She-wolf?” Anguy asked looking up from the arrows he’d been fashioning. “She tore through here like the Stranger was on her tail.”   
“Something stupid.” Gendry admitted. He liked Anguy, to a point, but he wasn’t about to waste time explaining to him.   
“Well, she ran over that way.” He said, tossing him a couple of spare cloaks off a cart. “Try to come back in one piece.”   
Gendry ran in the direction in which Anguy pointed, the light fading as he got deeper into the brush.   
“You’d make a shit hunter.” She said flatly as he came upon her in a copse. His eyes fell upon her, hurt and anger coloring her thin cheeks and in her hands, a tightly held stick, ready to attack anything that came near. He’d always thought the way in which highborns clung to their sigils was stupid; plastering an animal on every item that adorned your body and walls doesn’t make you one. That was until he saw her, feral and trapped in the darkening woods. She was beautiful in her ferocity, reminding him again of everything she was that he wasn’t.   
“Arya.” He started but stopped. He’d always been terrible with words, terrible with girls. He was nothing and she was everything. His heart sank. He was an idiot, he couldn’t fix this, and even if he could what would happen? Did he want to fight to stay by her side only to lose her once to her family and then to the husband she’d surely be sent to. He turned to leave.   
“Why’d you come find me just to leave again?” She said, her words growing to a yell, her stick starting to splinter from her grip. “Go on, run you coward! Run back to the Brotherhood, be their family, maybe on day they’ll actually give a shit about you!”   
Fury burst through his chest at her words. How dare she mock his only option?   
“Do you?” He growled, moving in her direction, his eyes locked on hers. “You say you want to be my family but what will happen when you get back to yours? I’ll be back in my forge, eating my stale bread while you sleep in your featherbed, take your warm baths and do whatever it is that highborn ladies do. No matter what happens here, I don’t get to keep you and you’ll forget about me.  
Arya stared at him, varying emotions flickering over her face. As he got control of his ragged breath, the air the forest thickened around them, waiting, just as he was, to see what she’d say. In his ears, Gendry could hear his blood rushing, his heart beating fast as if it were getting as much productivity before it broke entirely.   
But her expected anger never came.   
“Come.” She said,letting the battered stick fall from her hand. Gendry followed her, as he always had.   
Through the woods they walked, deeper, colder and darker. Arya hadn’t looked at him once as they walked, hadn’t spoken to him or even glanced to see if he was following.   
Once she stopped, Gendry looked around at their location at a loss for why she had brought him here. This part of the forest didn’t look much different than the one they’d been standing in before.   
Arya slowed as she walked to one strange tree, a white one with blood red leaves. It was smaller than many that surrounded it, only it’s coloring setting it apart. She gently took her hand to the white bark, reverently leaning her forehead against the trunk.   
“This is a weirwood.” She said after a moment, taking a step back from the tree but her eyes still firmly fixed upon it, her thoughts seemingly much further away. “They’re sacred in the North and nearly non-existent in the South. Father always told me that you couldn’t lie in the presence of a weirwood. We owe each other truth.”   
Gendry nodded, not knowing what to say. He ached over the way she spoke so longingly of her father and the North. There was a hole caused by their loss, the same as the hole that she would leave in him. He’d feared that hole and trying to keep it small, the edges clean had led to his actions earlier. And now watching her grieve, having her share that grief with him, he knew that an Arya-shaped hole would never have been small and would never heal.   
“What do you want, Gendry?” She asked, softly, turning to look him in the eye.   
“I don’t get to want, m’lady.” He answered. “In my experience, wanting doesn’t lead to getting.”   
“Do you want me?” She asked, stepping closer to him, her grey eyes darkening.   
“I can’t want you.” He responded quietly, his heart racing the closer she walked to me.   
“I didn’t ask what you can or can’t do.” She said as she continued her slow stalk towards him. “ I asked you, yes or no, do you want me?”  
“Yes.” He admitted before he could stop himself, as mesmerized as he was by the intensity in her beautiful face. She was right in front of him, breathing the same air, warmth radiating off her.   
Before he can fully process her closeness, her fingers are in his hair, her lips at his ear.  
“Then have me.” He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. He was never going to recover from her.   
“Arya,I can’t. I want to but I can’t.”  
“Yes you can. Look at me, Gendry. I am saying yes.” Her tiny hands hold either side of his face, keeping his eyes to hers. “Girls like me don’t get to choose. I am six and ten, a woman grown; I know what will happen when I get to Riverrun. I will be sold for a war alliance but I want you. I love you. I want to marry you and lay with you. I want to choose.”   
Ghosts of old warnings ran through his head, Beric warning him to that the Lady was not for him, Master Mott teaching him to not look the highborn in the eyes, the many times he was told again and again that a bastard deserved nothing. One look at her pleading eyes, quiets all of that. No warnings, no painful lesson, no deeply ingrained belief in his own low worth could hold up to her saying she chose him, that she loved him.   
“You are mine and I am yours.” He whispers to her, taking her small face in his hands, placing his lips against hers. She responds immediately, deepening the kiss, filling his senses with her.   
“I am yours and you are mine.” She replies once they part, a warm smile on her face. Never in Gendry’s life had anyone looked at him like she does.   
“Marry me. Here. Now.” Arya says looking up at him. “You have a cloak, we have a weirwood tree, we have words which we’ve already said. In the North that’s all that’s needed.”   
Before Gendry could question his luck or think on the consequences, he draped his cloak over her, quickly kissing her again, deeper more passionately than he’d dared at first. He couldn’t get enough of her her. Wanting more of this woman he’d loved for so long and was now his wife, he lifted her into his arms, kissing her neck, behind her ears, more of her mouth, anywhere he could reach. Arya’s hands nimbly started to undo the laces on his jerkin. Not trusting his legs to hold out much longer, Gendry brought them both on the ground. As he unclasped the cloak she wore, laying her on upon it, she whispered in his year “From this day until the last of my days.”


	2. Chapter 2

Morning air filtered through the cave, from her sleeping alcove, tucked in the the back of the cave, Arya could hear sounds of the day starting. Arya didn’t want it to be morning. She never wanted to move from this position, enveloped deeply in the arms of her husband, her body and his conforming to one another. She had woken up the same every morning for the sennight since they’d married and the thrill had yet to wear off. She waiting for the happiness in her chest to abate but as the days past it had only grown.   
For as much as she had fought against the idea of marriage her entire life, she never imagined it could make her heart beat so hard, feel so safe and that she could find hope in the heart of someone else. Every moment in his arms found her entire body expel all worry and fear, Gendry’s gaze filling her belly with unfettered desire.   
Arya remembered the lessons of her Septa about marriage, what was expected and the necessary unpleasantness that came with coupling. Apparently, an elderly maid, devoted to a rigid faith, was a terrible source of information, Arya thought to herself with a smirk. But being bedded was amazing, more than she ever thought it could be. Every time they finished she ached to feel him inside her again. She never knew her body could feel the rush and pleasure that he gave her or that she could feel so close with another person.   
They had chosen to keep their marriage and relationship a secret. The Brotherhood had sold Hot Pie to pay for their meals, what would they do to Gendry when they found out he’d deflowered the Princess of the North? Still, they had each other whenever they could, sometimes quietly under the wool blankets at night, sometimes against a tree as they gathered firewood, sometimes deep in the forest where she could scream her pleasure.   
Things would be different at Riverrun; they could share chambers, with a door, and they could plan for their future together. Thinking about the finally being free to be openly married, Arya burrowed deeper into Gendry’s arms with a contented sigh.   
“Good Morning, M’lady.” Gendry says, waking up, his breath so close to her ear that she shivers from the vibration of his words. She faces him and smiles.   
“You’re in a good mood this morning.” He observes.   
“We’re only a few days out from Riverrun. And then we can sleep in a real bed, fuck in a real bed.” She grins at him with one eyebrow raised teasingly.   
“I don’t know about that.” Gendry responds, kissing her neck. “You might want to take what pleasures you can now. I don’t think I’ll keep my cock when your brother hears what we’ve done.”   
“He wouldn’t dare.” She says, biting gently on his ear. “Taking your cock won’t make me a maiden again.”   
Though his tone had been light, Arya could tell that he was genuinely worried. Robb wouldn’t do that; she was mostly sure. Yes, her mother and he would be angry but Robb would come around and Arya had long since gotten used to her mother’s disappointment. She had learned long ago, in what felt like a whole different life, that when it came to her family, it was always better to ask forgiveness than permission.   
“I think,” She says, moving her hand beneath the woolen blanket they had slept beneath, “that you ought to take me again, just to make sure my maidenhead is gone.”  
“As you wish, m’lady.” He responds with a groan.   
By the time they’d made it to the fire to break their fast, very little food was left and it was cold. Arya hardly cared; there would be food enough when they met up with her family.   
Once the food was eaten, Arya giving the bulk of what remained to Gendry, they had helped the Brotherhood break down the camp.  
Into the afternoon they continued their journey, breaking with just enough time to set up a new camp for the evening. Lord Beric had told her that they were less than two days ride. They were making excellent time which was by design. Thoros had heard from a whore in a nearby brothel that there was to be a wedding at the Twins. Ayra’s Uncle Edmure was to take a Frey to bride and the entire Northern forces were expected to leave Riverrun within the fortnight to journey to the wedding. Arya couldn’t give a shit about the wedding but she hated the idea of being so close to family only to have them march away.   
As the afternoon lazed by, following their stop, Arya grabs Anguy’s longbow to practice her archery. As much as she had always loved swordplay, archery had been the first skill she’d managed to pick up and it would always be special to her. If she closed her eyes, as she lifted the bow, getting into position, she could almost feel the eyes of her father on her. He would watch, with pride in his eyes for his little wild wolf. He had been proud of how hard she practiced. He never said as much, but his eyes shown with it whenever he watched her.   
The familiar sense of sorrow filled her chest as she thought on her father; he would not be at Riverrun. He would be no where she went. He would never see the wonderful man she had married and wouldn’t be there to calm Catelyn once they broke the news. He would never hold any of his grandchildren. She had married without her father to escort her to the tree. As she thinks on all the years she will have without him, she lets the bow drop from her hands, fleeing into the woods behind her.   
She runs into the glade, not watching her direction, just trying to find a place that the grief can’t catch her. Finally, her legs give out under a large oak and she curls into a ball. Her heart feels cracked in two, as if her entire chest was split open and the pain pouring out of her. As she sobbed she didn’t noticed the crinkling of the foliage around her.   
“Hey now, what is this about.” Gendry asks gently, sitting beside her.  
“Nothing will ever be the same.” She cries. “My mother and Robb will be at Riverrun but no one else. Winterfell is gone and so is everyone else that I’d loved. I will never sneak a bow from Master Rodrick. I will never follow Jory around the yard, climb with Bran or hold Rickon while we listen to Old Nan’s stories. Everything is gone.”   
He held her as she cried herself out.   
“Just because nothing will be the same does not mean that there will never be joy again.” He says to her, holding her face in his hands. “You deserve hope and love and miracles and you will get them.”   
“What about you, Gendry? Don’t you deserve someone whole and beautiful, not some broken girl with nothing but vengeance and sadness in her heart?”   
He deserved more than her, more that she had to offer. She was Arya Horseface. She was a wild girl with a good name but nothing else to offer. Why Gendry had married her she didn’t know. Guilt overwhelmed her as she wiggled from his embrace. He held her strongly still.   
“Look at me Arya.” He said, his deep blue eyes filled with conviction. “You are more than I could ever even begin to imagine for myself. You are beautiful and strong, loving and smart. And for some godsforsaken reason you want me. I have nothing to give you, not even a name and somehow you chose me. You are my miracle and I spend the rest of my days bringing you all the happiness you deserve.”   
“You don’t need a name stupid. You are mine and you are a Stark now.” She said, the tears drying from her face.   
“I love you.” He says to her, placing his mouth on hers.   
“And I love you.” She responds in between kisses. She wanted to lose herself in this man, forget the pain of the past and focus on the joy of the future. So she does.   
By the time they made it back to camp, with some firewood to excuse their absence, a crowd was gathered around some riders. A woman dressed in red was conversing with Thoros and Lord Beric. They turned towards Gendry and Arya as they came into the clearing.   
“I’m sorry, lad.” Lord Beric says. Behind Gendry and Arya, several soldiers in armors take a hold of Gendry.   
“No!” Arya screams, trying to tear at the armored hands holding on to Gendry.  
“What are you doing?” Gendry yells as he too fights the soldiers trying to grasp him. More soldiers come to restrain the fiercely fighting couple. Elbows, feet and fists flew everywhere. Arya wasn’t sure who she hit or where but she had to get herself free, had to get Gendry free. They could not take him; he was hers!  
“Where are you taking him?!?” She screamed. Gendry was losing the fight with the four soldiers trying to subdue him.   
“The Lord of Light has need of you. You will change the fate of the world.” The Red Woman says as she approaches the still fighting Gendry. Arya lets out a growl, and elbows the soldier holding her. His grips falters for a moment allowing her run to where Gendry was being restrained.  
The Red Woman opened her palm, blowing a sweet-smelling powder over their faces.   
“Sleep, dark child. The Lord will have need of you but not this day.”   
Arya swayed. As the world went hazy she let out a screamed “Gendreeey” before she knew no more.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfic I've ever written but this story was playing around in my head for too long to not write it. I hope you enjoy!


End file.
